


Cry-Baby

by TheFaceofaMouse



Series: Ways to Skin a Cat [2]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Nipple Play, Restraints, idk how to tag this but dice gets mean and he sort of steps on the devil's d, just warning you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 07:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13476330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFaceofaMouse/pseuds/TheFaceofaMouse
Summary: This is a very, veeeery self indulgent exploration of how I envision one aspect of the Devil and King Dice's relationship featuring a subby, weepy devil and a very mean, dommy Dice. I wanted to get to the nitty-gritty of why I can see a sub/dom relationship between them so clearly, so I just kinda tried my best to explore the head-space of a repressed, masochistic Devil.  Sub devil is my joy in life right now so forgive me if I beat a dead horse in this hah.I should state that the activities in this fic are probably most definitely NOT proper BDSM protocol, so please just kind of leave your expectations for realistic representation at the door ahah.  I'm just blowin' off some steam, ya feel?At any rate, please enjoy ~**BIIIIG shoutout to shadamy22 for beta-reading and fixing all my shitty baby grammar





	Cry-Baby

Mr. Wheezy stands trial in the dim light of the Devil’s office. He speaks quickly, rattled by the Devil’s presence.

“It won’t happen again, boss,” Mr. Wheezy swears, wearing a weak, unconvincing smile. 

“Yeah, you said that last time, too,” the Devil says with a tired, drawn out sigh. The beast is slouched in his chair, fingers laced over his ribs. Even in this relaxed posture, the Devil’s glare is enough to strike fear into the heart of his weaker-willed lackey.

“I-I know. Know I screwed up big, but you’ll see! I’ll make it right.” More empty promises from Wheezy. The Devil’s so tired of hearing the same crap from his employees day in and day out, yet here stands Mr. Wheezy, blathering on like a buffoon. The Devil sighs again.

“And how are you going to make it right?”  The Devil asks.

“Well, I- I don’t know yet, boss. It’ll be real good. I swear it.”  Wheezy scratches the back of his neck.

King Dice is close by, keeping watch on the situation while guarding the office door.

“Dice,” the Devil motions for him to step forward.

“Yeah, boss?”

“What do you think we should do with ol’ mister Wheezy here? How can we teach him a lesson?”

Wheezy looks to his manager with pleading eyes. The boss loves the look of distress on his underling.

King Dice doesn’t bother hiding the sadistic, little smirk that appears on his face. He makes a show of pondering, touching his finger to his chin. 

“Hmm, tough to say. Forgetting to count the till at the end of the day?  _ Twice  _ in one week? Gosh I dunno, boss. I’m thinkin... a week’s pay?”

“Aw come on, King... That’s a little drastic, don’t you think?”

“Drastic? I was bein’ lenient. ‘Sides, I know you pocketed some earnings. Figured you’d make that work for ya.” It’s subtle, but Dice looks to his boss to see his reaction. The Devil wasn’t aware of that detail. Wheezy’s eyes widen, horrified.

“You  _ what?”  _ The Devil sits up.

Wheezy steps back when the boss shouts.

“L-listen, I was gonna pay you back, boss,” Wheezy’s hands are up in surrender. He’s trembling. 

King Dice watches the exchange with a dark, amused little grin.

The Devil lets out a booming laugh.

“ _ Pay me back, huh? _ ” The Devil isn’t quite yelling, but the volume of his voice has changed to something unholy, and it echoes with a sinister reverb. “ _ You already owe me your soul, Wheezy-boy! Your promises mean nothing to me! You think you can steal from me and just walk away?”  _ The Devil slithers out of his chair in an abrupt motion over his desk and towers over Mr. Wheezy. His mouth glows with heat, threatening to spit fire. 

“M-my… my ma,” Mr. Wheezy stutters. “She was sick! I needed meds.” He looks anywhere but the Devil’s face.

“Meds, huh?” Dice chimes in. “Didn’t know your mother reads nudie-mags for their  _ medicinal purposes.”  _

“I  _ also  _ bought medicine for my ma!” Mr. Wheezy sounds annoyed at Dice’s interjection.

“ _ Quit makin’ excuses!”  _ The Devil roars. “ _ I’ll have your hands for this. Teach you to steal from me, bub!”  _ The Devil raises his claws, ready to snatch at Wheezy. 

“No! No, please! Anything!” Wheezy falls to his knees, hands clasped in plea. 

The Devil grabs Wheezy by the wrists with one massive paw, raising him up off the ground. He pulls one hand back, claws drawn, ready to strike, but Dice speaks up.

“Watch your temper, sir” The Devil looks to King Dice with wild eyes. Wheezy looks at him like he’s crazy.

“Wheezy’s no good to us with no hands. I’d say you scared him plenty. Just cut his pay and be on with it.”  He looks down at Wheezy, disgusted. “Don’t waste your time on him.” Despite the Devil’s monstrous, imposing form, King Dice remains unshaken. Mr. Wheezy anxiously glances between Dice and the Devil.

The Devil frowns at his manager, and looks back to Wheezy. He gets close to his face and looks deep into his eyes with a scowl. 

“ _ F’ you ever steal from me again, I’ll make sure you’re nothing but a stump in an ashtray, got it? _ ” 

Wheezy nods vigorously.  He’s a stout fella, but even his size is dwarfed by the Devil’s towering, monstrous form.  The Devil blows searing hot breath into his face. It toasts Wheezy’s nose, smoke wafting off of his papery skin. He winces.

“Get out of my office.” The boss drops him, and he scrambles for the door. He glances at Dice as he passes, who doesn’t even turn his head to look at him.  The door slams shut. 

The big boss returns to his seat, slumping down far. He rubs at his temples. King Dice steps closer, watching him from the other side of his desk. At first, neither man says anything. The silence that hangs in the air is a dramatic contrast to the boisterous shouting from just moments prior. 

“Rough day, boss?” Dice asks, but his slight smile says he knows the answer.

The Devil lets out an exasperated sigh as he mulls over the day.  Every interaction from the day has left him drained. Every minion whose tail he had to step on to get them to pick up their feet. Every staff member he had to bully into doing their job right. Every contract he had to read ten times over to ensure it was actually binding. It all has left his brain feeling like static.

“I’m surprised.” Dice’s voice grabs the Devil’s attention.

“Eh?” 

“You actually listened to me.” 

The Devil huffs. He doesn’t need Dice’s commentary right now. 

“Really thought you were gonna tear Wheezy apart there. Glad I could talk some sense into ya, boss.” King Dice continues.

The boss reaches under his desk and pulls out a dark bottle. He pops off the cap and takes a swig. 

“Can I get you a glass?,” Dice asks, raising a judgmental eyebrow.

The Devil takes another swig, looking right at Dice. That’s his answer.

“All right.”

King Dice looks as if he’s about to leave. 

“Well, if there’s nothing else, boss,” he starts.

“Stay.” The Devil answers without thinking. 

Dice stops and considers his boss, smiling.

He pulls up a chair from corner and sets it before the desk.

“You gonna share?” King Dice makes eyes for the bottle of bourbon. The Devil passes him the alcohol. Dice takes a gulp. Passes it back. The manager reclines in his seat, hiking up his pants so he can cross an ankle over his knee. 

_ He looks good like that. _

“Wanna smoke?” Dice pulls out a cigar from his jacket and offers it to his boss.

“Don’t talk to me about cigars right now.” The Devil growls. King Dice laughs. 

“He don’t make our job any easier, that’s for damn sure.”

“Useless. Utterly useless. All of them.”

“That’s what ya get when your entire staff is a bunch of no-good debtors, boss. They’re not exactly employees.” King Dice lights his smoke with that fancy gold lighter of his. The Devil watches intently as Dice sucks on that tobacco. The room is silent, save for the subdued, crackling burn as Dice ignites the cigar and inhales deeply.

“Just think,” Dice continues, exhaling a plume of thick smoke, “how damn  _ smoothly  _ this place would run if I had actual employees. Could have this place really hoppin’ n boppin.” He holds his cigar between his index and his thumb, the rest of his long fingers flaring out gracefully. 

“Uh huh,” the Devil nods. He hears Dice, but he’s not really listening. He drinks instead of conversing. King Dice continues to smoke contently. 

“Ah, boss, before I forget-  I still need you to sign off on those papers from this morning.”

The Devil rolls his eyes like a teenager, and he slouches further down into his seat.

“I’ll get around to it,” he waves dismissively. “M’ done working for the day.”

King Dice chuckles at that.

“You find that funny,  _ Dice _ ?” The Devil snarls.

“S’ just that you’ve hardly done anything.”

The Devil’s brow twitches.

“ _ S’cuse me? _ ”

“As a matter o’ fact, I think I made more calls than you, today.” Dice wears a challenging smile. “Just now, you even tried to get me to punish Wheezy for you.  Wanted me to figure out what to do with him.”

The Devil thinks over the interaction.  He shows the slightest hint of embarrassment when he realizes that Dice’s observation is accurate.

“You’re my manager. F’course I’m gonna let you decide how to treat the staff. They’re your underlings.” At this point, he’s reasoning with himself out loud.

_ Yeah, that’s right… _

_ It’s because he’s the manager. _

_ That’s all. _

_ Nothing else to it. _

“You’re the  _ boss,”  _ King Dice states. He looks to the Devil inquisitively. “They’re not gonna respect you if I’m the one tellin’ ‘em what to do.”

The Devil takes a big gulp from the bottle of bourbon. He inhales sharply from the burn.

“They respect me plenty,” the Devil says, still grimacing from the alcohol.

“They don’t respect you. They  _ fear  _ you. Ain’t quite the same thing, boss.” 

Sometimes, Dice shows more wisdom than he should. The Devil tries to ignore it.

Dice reaches over for the bottle.

“Quit hoggin it.”

The Devil passes him the bottle, and Dice takes a swig. Even though he’s already had some, he still feels the need to make a face as he looks over the label.

“Thought I told you we needed better Whiskey. No one’s gonna pay for this  _ moonshine _ ,” Dice says with a grimace.

“Listen to you.  _ Thought I told you,”  _ he mimics King Dice. The Devil smirks. “You like bein’ bossy. That’s why I let you call the shots. Who am I to deny you when you’re so  _ good  _ at it?”  He sounds sarcastic, like he’s poking fun. He figures that’s a sufficient diversion from the truth.

The truth being that, on more than one long, lonely night, the Devil has had very elaborate fantasies about the way Dice gets when he’s bossy.

He’s thought a lot about the way his manager raises his voice. Stern, like a scolding parent. The way his smile fades to an unimpressed frown. How imposing and threatening he looks like that.  The sheer confidence he exudes when he knows he’s right and you’re wrong. It’s like he he’s above you, and you’re beneath him.

Yeah. The Devil has come  _ hard _ to the thought of being beneath Dice.

A lot. 

“I only act bossy ‘cuz you let me,” King Dice says, snapping the Devil out of his thoughts. He takes another swig. He decides to hold on to the bottle for now, leaving the Devil without his crutch. Now he has to face the music of what Dice just suggested.

“What do you mean I  _ let  _ you? I’m tellin’ you-  It’s your  _ job.” _

“I think you like it,” Dice continues, ignoring his boss.  He tilts his head as he smiles darkly, like he knows more than he should. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” The Devil lies.

“I think you do.” King Dice nods, eyes half-lidded as he looks his boss over, scrutinizing him. “I’ve tested the waters, boss. I used to keep my mouth shut. Used to just let you be a tyrant. I’ve been here for years now, and we’re friendly n’ all. I know I can speak my mind. I know when to hold my tongue, but sometimes…” Dice trails off. 

The Devil chews the inside of his cheek as he waits for Dice to continue his thought.

“Sometimes, I like to push you to see how much you’ll let me walk all over you.” Dice puffs his cigar casually, like he didn’t just call the Devil out right then and there.

“You… you watch it, Dice,” the Devil warns, but it’s an empty threat. Dice knows it from the falter in his boss’ voice.

“I notice it’s only when there’s no one really watching. No one you care about, at least.  In front of the patrons, you stand your ground. I’ve stopped tryin’ to push your buttons when we’re on the floor, but when it’s just a whelp or something, or when we’re alone…” Dice demands eye contact with the Devil when he says that. “You let me say whatever I want. Even when you’re actin’ big and scary.”

The Devil begins drumming his fingers on the armrests of his office chair in an anxious, frantic rhythm.

“Wanna know what I think?” Dice doesn’t even wait to let the Devil answer. “I think that you’d really like bein’ told what to do in bed, boss.

The Devil makes a show of scoffing. 

“You’re loony,” he averts his eyes. At this point, the Devil is unsure if he’s trying to convince Dice or himself that he isn’t absolutely on the money.

Dice shifts in his seat. He pushes himself lower onto the cushy chair, and his waist spills forward just so. The lit-cigar illuminates the sharp features of his face barely enough.  All that’s visible in the low-light of the office is his glossy eyes, his big piano-key teeth. That menacing grin. He’s fully relaxed, unafraid. Powerful. 

The Devil loves the way he looks like this.

“It must be exhausting, all the business you do day in and day out.”  King Dice sounds alarmingly sympathetic. “Collecting souls. Chasing debtors. Running this place,” he motions to the office. “I think that’s why you let me take so much responsibility, boss.”

It’s frightening how perceptive King Dice can be.

“You act like you don’t know exactly what you want,” the manager fiddles with the rim of the bottle as he speaks, idly fingering the edge of the glass with a delicate, dirty touch. “Act like you’re unsure, like you’re not the all-powerful Dark Lord you are. Well, I think,” King Dice pauses for dramatic effect. He checks to see if the Devil is listening.  The Devil is, indeed, listening with full attention. Dice continues, “I think you want to know what it’s like to  _ not _ be in control.”

The Devil’s ears point down, like a submissive cat, and his breathing hitches. 

“I’d love to show you, boss.” King Dice has adopted a low bedroom voice, and even though he’s seated, it makes the Devil feel weak in his knees.

King Dice sets down the bottle, bringing the cigar to his lips and keeps it there. He leans forward to remove his jacket and rests it lovingly on the desk. He reclines, spreading his arms along the armrests. “Why don’t you come here and let me show you how  _ bossy  _ I can be, huh?” 

“I’m one second away from kicking you out of here,” The Devil’s voice is small. His hair is standing on end as he takes shallow breaths. Dice just  _ laughs. _

“You’re the one that told me to stay, remember?”

_ He’s right. _

“If you wanted me outta here, you would’ve done it by now. I think we both know that ain’t what you want,” Dice looks the Devil up and down, and he feels like he’s being undressed by Dice’s eyes alone. He’s not even  _ wearing  _ anything.

“You don’t know what I want.” The boss finds the remnants of his fighting spirit. More laughter from King Dice.

The Devil doesn’t know why he’s being so damn resistant. Maybe he thinks he needs to preserve some semblance of power in their dynamic. He is the Boss, after all. Boss with a capital B. The Big Cheese. 

King Dice stands now, and the Devil’s body freezes up.  With a hand in his pocket, Dice casually saunters around the Devil’s desk, encroaches on his personal space. He exhales cigar smoke before ashing it, and places his hands on the armrests of the Devil’s office chair, effectively trapping him. He leans in close, and the Devil finds himself retreating farther back into his chair.

“Let’s make a little bet, huh, boss?” Dice is inches away from the Devil’s face. “I’m gonna tell you exactly what to do. You’re not allowed to deny me. No magic. No hoodoo. Nothin’. You just gotta do what I say.”

“Dice,” the Devil tries to speak up, hating how is voice comes out weak. Shuddering. Breathless.  Dice ignores him.

“If you don’t have the time of your life- if you don’t absolutely  _ love _ it, then you win.  You get to name the terms. But if  _ I  _ win,” Dice licks his lips, looking at his boss’ mouth hungrily. 

“If I win,” the Devil interrupts, “then I’m going to use your head as a foot rest for the next month…make you walk around the casino with a dirty bucket for a head.”

“Mhmm,” Dice hums. He licks the Devil’s mouth, a move that he’s come to find is best for whipping out when he needs the Devil shut up. It’s especially effective when Dice works his way into kissing him. The Devil takes centering breaths. Dice pulls away after kissing him deeply, successfully captivating his boss. “And if I win,” he continues in a low whisper, just barely out of reach of the Devil's mouth, “I’m gonna tie you up and fuck you hard and slow  _ every _ night. Gonna work you for hours until you’re weeping,  _ beggin’  _ me to let you come.” 

The Devil’s chest rises.  He’s arching his back, his body reacting to the thought of that alone. He lets out a  _ dirty  _ moan, and the sound of it is foreign to even him. 

“Mm, y’like that, boss? Like the sound of that? Of me tying you up. Fucking you good. Teasin’ you.” Dice pulls away to stand tall, and the Devil immediately misses the warmth of his breath and the smell of his cologne. Dice rests the cigar on an ashtray behind him. “Well, you could have all that n’ more… I’ll take good care of ya, boss.” Dice is smiling so wickedly. “Whaddya say? Deal?” He offers his hand for a shake.

The Devil swallows hard. Dead silent. His eyes are wide, considering Dice’s offer.  Stomach tight. 

He’s…He isn’t _ weak _ .

He’s a force to be reckoned with. An ancient thing of power.  He’s the fucking  _ devil.  _ You know, Lucifer? The Angel who fell from _ Heaven _ ?

It isn’t very becoming for a mighty being like himself to actually indulge in this…  _ style  _ of fantasy;  being degraded and used.  He’s a creature to be feared and admired! How do you fear something that rolls over onto his back, throws his knees up, and spreads himself open for you to plow him hard and mean, let alone  _ admire  _ him? He has an image to uphold, and the shit he likes? The shit that makes him hotter than a fucking ghost pepper up the ass? That shit does not lend to his image as the Devil.

Year after year after year, the Devil has denied himself that gratification. He’s denied himself the satisfaction of what it really takes to please him.  Year after year, he just gets by on the basics. He gets by fucking his lackeys, screwing some patrons. Whoever he can coerce into sleeping with him. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy it.  He always orgasms.  He has a fine time fucking, debauchery and adultery sort of being his  _ thing and all that,  _ but it doesn’t erase the fact that what would really do it for him, what would really make him cry out in ecstasy, is something completely contrary that self-inflicted image.

Besides, even if he did decide to indulge in his masochistic fantasies, who could he trust to do something like that to him? Who would respect the  _ privilege  _ of seeing the Devil, the ruler of Hell, in his most vulnerable, human state?

Before him stands, quite possibly, the only man he would ever consider trusting.  Sure, Dice is a little sleazy. He’s not exactly a forthright guy. You don’t work in a place like this being an honest, upstanding citizen, but King Dice does respect the Devil. He knows that. Where others fear him, his manager actually admires him.  The Devil doesn’t want to threaten that admiration. He doesn’t want to lose a single ounce of respect from someone like King Dice.

If he lets Dice see him like this, if he lets him see anything other than a powerful overlord, then it’s over, isn’t it?

_ That might not necessarily be the case. _

“Come on, boss,” Dice’s voice is soothing, caring, and it penetrates through the Devil’s racing mind. “Let me show you a good time...”

Despite all of his repressed self-doubt and indecision, the Devil nods in agreement, reaching for Dice’s hand and shaking.  At the end of the day, he wants what he wants, and he can’t deny that any longer.

“ _ Good boy _ ,” Dice croons, and those words drip all the way down the Devil’s spine, giving every nerve in his body a little wake-up call.

Never thought he’d hear those words in reference to himself. 

_ Shit... _

With a nasty grin, King Dice hooks his thumbs behind the waistband of his pants, running them along the edges.  He tugs the waistband away from his abdomen, teasing a sneak peak of his goods.  The Devil peers forward, eager to get a look, then Dice lets his waistband snap back. The Devil scoots forward to the edge of his seat, watching Dice expectantly.

“Easy there, tiger.” Dice places a firm hand on his shoulder. For someone who’s used to taking what they want whenever they want, the simple act of being told to  _ wait _ is entirely fresh.

He’s already getting hard for this.

“No need to rush. Let’s take it nice n’ slow. I ain’t all the way ready to play, yet. Gonna need you to fix that.”  Dice unzips his pants, but doesn’t unbutton them. He grabs his cigar from the desk and resumes smoking, leaning against the edge of the desk behind him. He watches the Devil through half lidded, sex-laced eyes. He’s  _ so  _ damn obvious.

“Take it out,” he says as he blows out smoke.

The Devil squints at Dice. He’s reaching up for his crotch to obey, but King Dice stops him again. The Devil huffs, frustrated.

“No. Use your mouth.” Dice wears that serious, unfriendly expression.

_ Oh. _

The Devil growls, placing his hands on Dice’s thighs for stability. He cranes his neck, navigating around the fabric with his nose, getting a good sense of what Dice’s arousal smells like. Clean linens. Crisp soap. A light hint of sweat from the day’s exertion. He’s closing his eyes, getting lost in it. The Devil uses his tongue, encircling King Dice’s half-hard cock and pulling it out. It’s a talented maneuver. 

“Good boy,” Dice sings again. He caresses the Devil’s head, riding a finger along his pointed ear. He holds him by the back of his head. It’s an encouraging feeling.

The Devil licks his lips in preparation. He’s ready to suck that cock.  _ So  _ ready. However, as he tries to lean forward, Dice squeezes the patch of fur on the back of his head, stopping him. It stings ever so slightly.

“Ah-ah, I didn’t say you could do that.” Dice places the cigar in his lips and watches the Devil from above. His cock is inches away from his mouth. The Devil holds his breath in anticipation, and it’s killing him.

“If you’re a good boy for me, I’ll treat you right. Make you moan nice n’ loud for me, but if you don’t do what I say, I’m gonna have to get mean.”

The Devil’s cock is now showing, standing at attention through the slit in his fur. 

“Tell me what you want.” Dice says.

The Devil chews his lip.

“Come on. Wanna hear you say it…” Dice stops squeezing, and rakes his fingers through the demon’s fur in a soothing motion. The Devil shuts his eyes at that feeling, mouth hanging open. It’s entirely contrary to what Dice just said, and that’s the most threatening thing about it.

“I want... I want to suck your cock.” The Devil admits quietly.  He feels embarrassed.

“How bad?” He asks as he’s fucking  _ petting  _ him.

“Ungh…  _ bad… _ ” 

“Beg for it.”

There’s that mean tone.  The one that makes the Devil whimper as he looks up pitifully at his manager.

Dice’s cock is standing more at the ready. The Devil hates him right now. Hates how long this is taking.  Hates how  _ hard  _ he is from just his words. Hates himself for being so into it.

He growls.

“I said  _ beg,”  _ Dice’s smile is  _ dark.  _ He stops petting him.  The Devil feels unrest in his core.

“...Please,” he starts. “Please let me suck your cock.” He’s breathing harshly through his nose, almost squeezing Dice’s thighs a little too tightly.  He knows that, if he wanted to, he could whip out his claws and force Dice into his mouth already. Could pin him down and take him anyway he pleases, but that wasn’t part of the deal, and the Devil is a man of his word.

“Better.” King Dice brings his hand to the Devil’s face now, brushing his thumb over his lips. “Soon, big guy. Soon.”

The Devil whines.

“Make me hard. No sucking.” 

The Devil will take whatever he can get. He kisses the head, and Dice’s cock twitches at that. He licks a stripe across the top of his dick, all the way to the base. Nuzzles his way to the underside. Licks there, too. He mouths gently at the base and hums appreciatively.  He's already starting to drool for Dice’s dick. He’s never been denied it this long. His hips rock forward as he humps the air between Dice’s spread-legs, gaining no purchase. No friction. His cock strains out in the open.  It’s agonizing.

“You want to suck me off, big guy?”

“Yeah,” the Devil replies in a rasp.

“Mmm, I dunno. Dunno if I like your tone.”

“ _ Please,”  _ The Devil sounds pathetic.

Dice’s chest is rising and falling so rhythmically. He’s so calm. He makes the Devil wait in endless anticipation as he makes his decision.

“All right. Go ahead. Suck me off nice and slow,” Dice hasn’t stopped giving loving caresses along the Devil’s jaw. 

Gratefully, obediently, the Devil takes Dice’s cock into his mouth. He moans around it, swallowing back drool as pushes him into the back of his throat. His eyes are closed, lost in the glory of what it feels like to be denied that nice, juicy cock, and then to finally fill his mouth with it.

Ironically, it’s  _ heaven.  _

“Nn. Good, boss.” Dice has swooped his fingers up to the top of the Devil’s head. He grabs a fistful of hair, and keeps a solid grip on it while the boss tries to do his best. Dice is commanding the pace. He’s using his hips to slowly, expertly pull himself away from the Devil’s dirty mouth, and slide himself back in  _ deep.  _

The big boss is a champ. He can handle a fat cock to the back of the throat no problem. That doesn’t mean it’s effortless, though. Dice fucks the Devil’s face with such control, too. The pace is predictable enough that he can stagger his breathing. That helps keep him from choking.  He times his gulps so that he closes his throat around Dice each time he hits the back of his mouth. He’s a master, and so is Dice.

They’re both rock hard. King Dice is letting out sighs of pleasure. 

“You’re being so good, boss.  _ So _ good.” Dice tilts his head as he watches the boss take his cock. The Devil looks back up at him with glowing, yellow eyes. “Keep this up, and I’ll treat you right.” He promises. 

All these promises are making the Devil antsy.

He continues to buck his hips to no avail.  Dice seems to be aware of his desperation. He keeps the space between his legs just wide enough, and watches his boss with no sympathy. The Devil squirms under his gaze.  He feels like a worthless whelp in this position, and it’s fucking  _ amazing.   _ It’s so good, he can’t help but touch himself.

He grabs his cock and squeezes it with a relieving sigh. Dice gives him a disapproving glare.

“Hey…” Dice speaks.  He pulls the Devil off his cock by his fur, and the Devil gasps at that. King Dice leans in to look him in his eyes.

“Didn’t say you could touch yourself.” Dice frowns, brows furrowing. “Am I gonna have to get rough?”

_ Please do... _

The Devil wears a guilty grin as he whimpers in response. Reluctantly, he takes his hand off his dick.

“Sit on your hands.”

With a disappointed groan, he does as he’s told.

King Dice squeezes the Devil’s fur again. Harder this time. He tugs at him, bringing his head back onto his cock so that he’s swallowing it. The Devil winces, squeezing his eyes shut at the sharp ache.

Dice has now employed both hands, one firmly stabilizing the back of the Devil’s head while the other pulls his hair. He’s fucking his face faster now with more forceful, aggressive thrusts that elicit terrible noises out of the Devil.  He squirms, shoulders caving in as his throat is abused. 

The Devil bobs his head dutifully, doing his damned best to show Dice how sorry he is. With the way his throat is getting raw, and the way his jaw is starting to ache, it’s making him enter an altered state. 

He’s doing his best to toss out the notion that he has to act tough and put up a front.  Up until now, he’s been trying to contain his readiness for abuse. His eagerness for punishment. However, the more Dice pushes him, and the more he  _ likes  _ it, it’s easier and easier to throw caution to the wind and just  _ be himself.  _

Dice’s body is starting to just barely quiver, and his rhythm falters. It makes the Devil gag around his dick. Immediately, pink tears begin swell in his eyes.

“Getting.. Getting close, big guy.” King Dice encourages him, and his voice is a little breathy.  The Devil can tell Dice has to make an effort to keep it together.  He’s is enjoying this just as much as the Devil is, the sadistic bastard... 

The Devil bounces his knees anxiously. His cock is aching. He’s sitting on his hands. His toes are curling, clawing into the floor as Dice fucks his head. King Dice’s breathing starts to crescendo, and the Devil knows that hot cum will be oozing down his throat in a matter of seconds. He sobs for it.

King Dice comes, and he’s actually throwing his head back as it happens. The Devil has to take a few gulps, but he gets most of it down. Some of it comes back up, and he lets it leak out of his drooly, numb mouth.

Dice sighs deeply, appreciatively. He composes himself and smiles, leaning back in to the Devil’s face and touching his cheek.

“ _ Good  _ boy, you made me come nice and hard.” Dice wipes a pink tear away from the Devil’s eye. He kisses his cheek lovingly, giving him a good scratch behind his ear. The boss himself is feeling just a touch of pride from all the praise, not to mention a little shiver over the affectionate ear-scratch.

“A damn shame, though. I wanted to reward you, but you were misbehavin’ an awful lot.” Dice looks the Devil over with a disapproving gaze. The Devil can feel his own presence diminishing.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you how to listen better.” Dice puts himself back into his pants. He flattens out his vest and pulls at his gloves so they’re nice and tight.  He goes for his tie, and the Devil thinks he’s adjusting it, but he proceeds to unravel it as he pulls it off in a smooth, fluid motion.

“I made you come…” The Devil suggests.

“I had to ask you to beg twice,” Dice replies, wagging his finger as he corrects him. “And you tried to touch yourself,” Dice gives The Devil a stern stare, “That’s my job. You’re  _ mine.  _ Understand?” 

The Devil nods quickly, curling his toes and biting his lip.

Dice pulls the fabric of his tie taut.

“Gimme your hands.”

The Devil’s eyes widen.

Eagerly, he presents both hands, pressing his wrists together. He knows where this is going. He can barely contain his excitement as Dice deftly binds his wrist with his tie. The fabric is silky and soft, but Dice has managed to knot it tightly. Tight enough that it throbs just the right way.  With his ears still pointing down, the Devil smiles big. 

Dice can’t help but chuckle.

“You enjoyin’ yourself, darlin?” 

“Yeah,” the Devil admits through a goofy grin.  It feels good to be honest like this. 

“Good. I’m glad,” Dice ashes his cigar and discards it.  The Devil finds himself watching Dice’s every move, unsure of what he’ll do one second from the next. Watching him do mundane things like discarding his smoke is completely captivating to him. 

Then, Dice unbuckles his belt.

“It’s about to get rough for you, big guy. You still up for this?” 

The Devil nods furiously.

“Ha-ha, all right. We’ll keep it pretty simple. Ease into it. Just... Just say “red” if it’s too much.” Dice exchanges a look with the Devil to make sure he understands him.

“Red. Okay. Got it.” The Devil is eager to move along.

“Now, about this...  _ situation  _ you got going on,” Dice motions toward the Devil’s massive, dripping, aching cock. It stands fully at-the-ready. The Devil looks desperately between Dice and his cock. He begs him with his eyes to do something. Anything. Dice doesn’t bely his intentions by his looks. He’s still wearing a cold, cool expression, even if there is a hint of a smile present.

He takes the Devil’s bound wrists and raises them above his head, then pulls his belt from its loops. He uses it to secure the Devil’s hands to the chair, sliding the belt between the framework of the office chair and the boss’ wrists. 

The Devil is secured. He’s not going anywhere. He awaits Dice’s touch eagerly, hopefully, but no touch comes. Dice leans in, holding his weight up with one arm and bringing a knee up to the space between the Devil’s thighs, just shy of his groin. He holds his hand over the boss’ body, hovering and ghosting along his chest and stomach.  The Devil puffs himself out as if to aid him, to help allow King Dice to touch him, but Dice keeps his distance. 

The Devil squirms in his seat.  He isn’t sure what to do.  Blood is already draining from his arms and his head, seeing as how it’s all just rushing to his dick. Dice gives a smug, satisfied look before pressing his fingers into the Devil’s fur and spreading them out.  He pets the thick fur of his chest, and he’s still wearing those cursed, silky gloves, so they glide smoothly through the silky hair of his chest. Dice digs around, searching, until he finds a hard nub. The captive demon lets out a moan.  It’s a gratifying sensation on its own.  He’s so sensitive and horny at this point that any contact would feel incredible.  He loudly moans again as Dice grabs hold to squeeze the tender flesh,  _ hard.  _ His mean manager twists his nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The Devil is gasping, “ah, ah”, over and over breathlessly. Just when he thinks it’s too much, when it starts to cross the threshold of tolerable to unbearable, Dice eases off, ceasing the merciless squeezing and rubbing away the pain in little circles with his thumb. 

The Devil is still panting, trying to catch his breath from that little stunt. Then all of a sudden, with his back arching in a wide curve away from the chair, he  _ yelps _ . Dice is now tugging as he twists his nipple again, watching the faces his helpless boss makes carefully. His eyes are sewn shut. His lip quivers. He’s sobbing out in beautiful agony.

“Love watching you like this, boss,” King Dice says in sensual drawl, lust oozing off of him. “Makes me wanna fuck you. Hard.”

The crying beast can barely keep his focus. He’s turned away, retreating to sob out into his own shoulder.  The combination of Dice’s cruel voice and the throbbing pain brings him to a helpless state of surrender.  He’s  _ so  _ hard.

“Keep being good for me, big guy. Show me how well you can take it.”

King Dice stops tugging his nipple and brings his other hand into play, raking at the Devil’s chest in downward strokes, like a cat against a scratching post. The relief is remarkable, tingling and fluttering. King Dice rubs soothing patterns against those tender nubs, and just as the Devil’s body is forgetting the pain, Dice grabs and twists, and a terrible shock shoots like electricity through the boss’ quivering body.

“Aaannggghh,” he cries out, drool leaking from his mouth. 

_ God, it’s so good... _

The sadistic manager twists his boss’ nipples to their limit and holds them in position. He rubs his knee against the Devil’s balls as he pulls carefully. 

“Ohh, fuck!” The Devil gasps. The tip of his neglected cock glistens with precum. 

“You sorry yet?” Dice asks dryly. 

“Ghhh,” the Devil just drools.  The pain is distracting.

“What’s that, boss? Can’t understand you.” King Dice goads his boss, pressing his knee firmly into his balls so it hurts. He twists his nipples the other way.

“Gah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the Devil pants. It hurts, badly, but he’s actually pressing himself into Dice’s knee. That throbbing ache is really doing it for him.

“Hmm, I dunno, boss,” Dice whispers, and he can barely be heard over the Devil’s wailing. “Kinda like watching you squirm like this. Gets me all hot for you.” Dice eases off the twisting, rubbing away the pain with those soothing circles just like before. The Devil catches his breath with big, racing gasps. His nipples throb. His balls ache. His cock twitches with each nasty word out of King Dice’s lips.

Dice stands back to gaze upon his work. The Devil is a fucking mess, crying and drooling all over himself, legs tiredly sprawled out beneath him. His arms look weak as they hang limply from the makeshift harness. Dice reaches behind him for the bourbon to have a drink.

King Dice hikes up his pant leg, then brings his foot up onto the seat of the Devil’s chair. He rests his foot against the base of the Devil’s cock, heel pressed against his fuzzy balls. The cool rubber of his shoe is disarming compared to the warmth of his knee. The sheer pressure of that contact makes the boss wince.

The Devil, the blubbering mess that he is, looks at Dice with a ridiculous grin that says,  _ Go ahead. Do it. _

“You like getting hurt, big guy? Like getting abused?”

“ _ Yes,”  _ the Devil sobs.

His manager pushes his foot into his dick, rotates it like he’s stamping out a cigarette. The Devil chokes. It’s terrible. The pain is whole and real, but at least there’s friction now. He finds himself actually relieved to feel his dick squished between the dirty sole of King Dice’s shoe and his own stomach. He bucks up into his manager’s foot the best that he can. It’s a jagged, uncouth motion. 

“Look at you,” Dice smiles wickedly, “you’re so desperate you’ll hump my god-damned shoes _.”  _ He laughs. He places his hands in his pockets, like this is no big deal to him. 

King Dice is the absolute contrast to the Devil right now, their dichotomy as striking as night and day.  Dice is calm, collected, composed. Even while sporting a growing erection, Dice looks unshakable.  The Devil, on the other hand…

The Devil is a writhing pile of desperation. Here sits a beast who’s been beaten into submission. A man who’s been broken down to his essence. This isn’t the same imposing demon with the booming voice and raging temper that was shouting at his insubordinate lackey just earlier. This is a raw, unbridled soul who, deep down in his guts, knows that after all that he’s done, he deserves to be hurt like this a hundred times over. 

Pink tears stream down his face, soaking into his fur. His face strains at the pleasure of how it feels to be tormented.  This kind of thing really suits him. 

“What a good boy you are, boss,” King Dice says with pride. He lifts his foot off the Devil’s aching cock, but the beast cries out when he does.  

“Please,” he starts, delirious, “do that again…” The Devil begs him with a pitiful look in his eyes. 

If only for a second, Dice hesitates, impressed.  His gaze intensifies as he presses down  _ hard.  _ He watches the Devil seriously as the beast shudders out an ugly noise. If his dick were to be properly pumped right now, just a few good strokes would have him shooting hot come on the spot. King Dice’s mouth hangs open in awe.

“Y’like that, huh?” His voice is breathy.

“Yes!” The Devil cries.

“Feel good?” 

“Yes! Fuck, yes!”

King Dice steps into him, enough for the Devil to feel the pressure in his stomach.

“Ahh, fuck! _ Fuck _ !” The Devil is  _ wailing.  _

“Want me to touch you, big guy?”

“Oh, god- please.  _ Please,”  _ he begs.

“You think you learned your lesson?”

“Yes!” The Devil responds immediately after each questions he’s asked.

He’s come a long way. In just a matter of minutes he’s gone from being in flat out denial of his proclivities, to being so hard from getting his balls stepped on he thinks he might die. He’s gone from a bratty rebel to full blown cry-baby.

As promised, he’s loving every second of it.

King Dice lifts his foot off of the Devil’s raging cock, but not without grinding against it first with his weight. He considers the Devil painfully slow.  He hums as he thinks. 

“I don’t trust you not to come all over my gloves.”  He pulls them off by his teeth, and the whimpering demon is a bit disappointed.  Dice seems to be aware of his disappointment.

“Maybe next time, we’ll play the game where you lose if any of your come gets on my clothes…”

The Devil would very much like to come on Dice’s clothes right now.

“Sadly, we’ll have to play that game another time, boss. I don’t think you’re ready to hold out like that yet”, he says as he slides his gloves into his pants pocket, silky fabric sliding against silky fabric.  

King Dice crouches before the Devil, resting his exposed hands high up on his trembling thighs. The Devil is in a hyper state of awareness. Any second, King Dice could touch his dick and end his suffering. The Devil feels he has to watch and be present for when that moment strikes. 

Dice is just staring up at the Devil from between his legs. He massages into the crease of his thighs and hips.  It’s a private, intimate area. The Devil looks at his manager through bleary, tear-stained eyes.  While King Dice is scary and intimidating with his piercing, green eyes peering up at him through the dark, the Devil isn’t scared.  

He trusts him.

Unlike all the other degenerates in the Devil’s employ at the Casino, King Dice actually takes his job seriously.  He’s the Devil’s go-to guy, his  _ right hand man _ .  That title isn’t just passed out to the first person to scratch the Devil’s back. It has to mean something. His manager is seeing him in his most vulnerable, exposed state, and he knows that Dice recognizes the gravity of what that means. The Devil is really succumbing to the freedom of what trusting his manager means.

He watches King Dice with adoration as the terrible man inches agonizingly slow to his cock.  He starts to move close, but just as he closes in, he pulls away. Dice is wearing a nasty smirk as he maliciously stakes his fingers along the Devil’s thighs, threatening to relieve the Devil of some discomfort.  The poor demon was just getting used to having his dick squished under Dice’s shoe. At least there was contact.  Now that he’s got nothing but air on his dick, he finds he misses that damned ache. Anything is better than this. 

“T-Touch,” the Devil quivers.

A cruel smile bleeds out from King Dice’s lips.

“What’s that, baby?” Dice raises his brow, intrigued.

“Touch… me.... “The Devil barely manages to get the words out, the sheer embarrassment choking him up.

“You begging for it?” 

“Uh-huh,” the demon rolls his hips.

“Mm, doesn’t sound like beggin’,” Dice says while digging his thumbs into the Devil’s hip creases. 

The Devil cries out an aggravated moan.

“Please! Please touch me. Please, please, please!” He mewls.

King Dice’s eyes go dark as he watches his boss fall apart.

“Oh boss,  _ baby _ , you’re beautiful when you get like that,” he sighs with admiration.

As if by the grace of God himself, Dice finally grips the Devil’s cock. Finally, that time has come. He pulls one solid stroke along the aching demon’s cock. 

“Fffffuuuuck,” spittle flies off the Devil’s mouth as he seethes. 

He’s crying again. Fat, rosey pearls drip from his eyes, but this time, from gratitude.

_ God,  _ he’s close to coming. The pit in his stomach deepens and constricts.  He feels the build-up swelling from within as Dice pumps him once, twice, three times, bringing him closer and closer to that release.  However, instead of letting him come, instead of jerking him in shallow pumps and being done with it like a decent man, Dice grabs hold of the Devil’s cock at the base and squeezes tight.

“Agh!” The Devil gulps.

“Hold on, you dirty boy. You filthy animal,” Dice stops him.  “Look at me. Come on, lemme see ya.” King Dice forces the Devil to look at him, grabbing his jaw pointing his face forward.  The Devil breathes fast and hard as he opens his eyes to try and focus. They lock eyes.

“I want you to remember this,” Dice starts. “Want you to remember who did this to you. Who did this  _ for _ you. Want you to think about this,” he starts pumping the Devil’s cock, twisting it’s base and sliding up with a firm grip. His other hand still squeezes unforgivingly hard. “Think about how  _ good _ it feels to be loved by me. To be punished by me…” Dice trails off.

The Devil is delirious, but he listens to Dice with dopey, lovestruck eyes.

“Come for me, boss.” The sadistic manager releases his iron grip, moving instead to cup the Devil’s balls and fondle them while he jerks him off. 

There are a few moments of pure, absolute, bliss.

There’s no pain. No torture. Nothing pressing him or choking him or hurting him. Just pleasure as King Dice jacks him off.

He starts coming, squirting out shots of the hot stuff in bursts.  His orgasm is long and boisterous as he weeps through it, moaning out his sincerest gratitude.

_ Thank you, thank you. _

“That’s right, let it aaaall out, big guy,” King Dice whispers gently. He keeps pumping him, milking every last drop from that swollen dick. Dice takes care not to go too far, paying close attention to when the Devil starts wincing from being pumped one time too many.

Totally spent, the big boss melts into his chair. He feels his senses coming back to him. The white noise in his ears rings, and his cock pulses and throbs limply against his stomach. 

His sense of self starts to come back, too. There’s shame, fear, regret.  A voice in his head that pipes up. It tries to tell him that his strength is a facade.  This is who he truly is, a worthless little whelp that craves to be hurt. He smothers that voice, unwilling to let go of the satisfaction this evening has given him.

Somehow, King Dice has managed to keep his hands clean of his boss’ come. He rakes his fingers along the Devil’s thighs, massaging his fur and watching him closely. 

“What a guy, boss.  _ Wow _ .” King Dice pets his Devil as he gently guides him down from his high. 

The rest of the night carries on at a completely different pace.  After cleaning the Devil off with his own handkerchief, King Dice lights him a fresh smoke. Dice escorts him out of his office with their arms linked, like the damned gentleman he is.  He brings the boss to his private quarters, lays him down to sprawl on his fine linens.  He asks him if he has everything he needs, offers him a champagne or a whiskey on the rocks.  He turns on the record player and adjusts it to play a soft, quiet jazz number.  A collection of candles from a nearby night stand give a warm, golden glow.

“Really going for a mood, huh?”  The Devil asks.

“Can it, boss,” King Dice rolls his eyes. He removes his vest, hanging it in the space of the wardrobe that the Devil left him. He returns to the bed, rolling up his sleeves as he climbs on.

“Can I rub your back for ya?” Dice offers.

The Devil make a considering face, then with a shrug, rolls over onto his back. He crosses his arms under his chin. King Dice straddles him, working his adept hands into the tight muscles of the Devil’s back. He groans in utter appreciation.

“Feel good?”

“ _ Yeah,”  _ the Devil sighs.

The manager massages his boss tenderly.  Wordless minutes pass as Dice soothes away the Devil’s tension, save for the dull hum of the gramophone.  The moment is so peaceful, so calm, the Devil feels himself melting into that twilight, half-awake state.  King Dice continues down the Devil’s spine.  He leans forward, closer to the Devil’s ears.

“You awake?”

“Mmmf,” the Devil grunts.

“Did you have a good night, boss?” He asks, scratching his hand up the Devil’s back and up to his neck, squeezing and kneading him there with his thumb.

“Yes..”

Dice works his hands under the beast’s shoulder blades. This is a particularly tense spot, seeing as how the Devil’s been known to sport an extra set of arms there from time to time.

“Did you absolutely love it?” The Devil can hear Dice smiling from the tone in his voice.

“Oh wipe that grin off your mug,” the Devil huffs.

“We made a deal, boss,” Dice reminds him in a sing-song tone, but he doesn’t need to.  The Devil hasn’t forgotten the words  _ fuck you hard and slow every night.  _ Not by a long shot.

“Need to know if I won. Did I win, or what?” Dice asks expectantly.

The Devil sighs.

“Yeah, you won, Mr. King.” 

Dice chuckles. It’s a confident, sexy laugh.

“When I’m right, I’m right.” 

The Devil ignores him for as long as he can. His manager straddles his ass, flushed against him.  The bulge in his pants is noticeable like this. King Dice changes his massage pattern, sticking to the Devil’s hips and sides, pulling his fingernails through his fur.  His touch is feeling more and more objectifying, no longer soothing.  Not in a sleepy way, anyhow.  He massages the Devil’s ass, squeezing his cheeks and spreading him just so. The Devil can’t ignore him much longer.

“You gonna fuck me now?” The Devil asks, his chest rising and falling smoothly.  He looks past his shoulder up at Dice.

“Part of the deal, wasn’t it?” King Dice responds both playfully and matter of factly.  The Devil is ready to pass out.  Despite being exhausted and spent, he still finds the prospect of getting fucked hard pretty enticing right about now. He lifts his ass to rut against his manager’s bulge lazily, as if he’s saying,  _ Come on, take me.   _ Dice pauses. 

“...sure you’re up for it?”

“Don't be soft.” The Devil replies. “Deal’s a deal, after all.”

Dice fucks the Devil good that night. It’s long and drawn out, and he edges him the whole time, keeping his dick hard through the entire session.  There’s no more torture, no more pain, but every time Dice grinds into that special spot within and brings him closer to his pique, pumping his cock all the while, he let’s go of the Devil’s cock and stops screwing him just so he can start that build up all over again. King Dice keeps his demon from climax until he’s begging, and once he hears those sweet cries of  _ please, please, please,  _ he lets him come. 

Despite it all, there still lies a subdued fear within the Devil, a sense of self doubt that wants to tell him that his role is to be powerful, not pathetic. At the same time, there’s a new found glory in acknowledging his own strength. The strength it takes to endure. To take it. To bear through it. Even when it’s hard and cruel and too much, and he thinks he can’t take it anymore.  

Being able to endure such punishment takes a certain kind of power. The power of an almighty Devil. After all, he  _ is _ the master of pain and suffering, but perhaps not in the way he expected himself to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this nonsense, honestly <3333  
> check out my tumblr >> www.sleazeboss.tumblr.com


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